Forbidden Fruit

Forbidden Fruit Ch 3: Guilty Pleasures

The rest of the ride was spent in a comfortable silence. Your hand held mine pinned against the inside of your thigh, my nails scratching lightly against the fabric of your pants. I snuggled against your side, softly singing with the radio as I tried hard to keep my thoughts silent.

The line had already been crossed; there was no undoing or going back in that respect. Yet that did not necessarily mean we should continue. My own strange set of morals kicked in, though I recognized it for what it truly was. I disliked myself for wanting it so badly, wanting you. Despised myself for being so selfish; we were playing a dangerous game, one that risked everything you held dear, while I risked nothing. What could I possibly offer in exchange for everything you stood to lose?

Then again, need I offer anything? You were aware of the risk, of the price you would have to pay if we got caught. You knew what was at stake, more fully than I could even understand, and yet you were willing to continue. I had made no special effort toward brining you to this decision. Of course, I had flirted and played, but I had stayed within certain boundaries. Anything that went beyond those limits had been initiated by you. I made sure of that… However much I wanted it, nothing could happen unless you had made that conscious decision to act. I would never tell you no, but neither would I ask.

The song changed, and I smiled. It was one of those moments when life is obliging enough to provide a soundtrack. The song was Follow Me, by Uncle Kracker.

“You don't know how you met me You don't know why You can't turn around and say goodbye All you know is when I'm with you, I make you free And swim through your veins like a fish in the sea

I'm singin’ Follow me everything is alright I'll be the one to tuck you in at night And if you Want to leave I can guarantee You won't find nobody else like me

I'm not worried ‘bout the ring you wear Cause as long as no one knows then nobody can care…”

The song spoke for me, the words I wanted to say, the things I needed for you to understand. I let my voice trail off, though the song continued as we pulled into the driveway. You waited until it was over; we sat watching each other until you killed the engine. We climbed out, walked up the driveway. You took the keys from me, unlocking and holding the door open, then locked it behind us.

You dropped your bag on the couch as I double checked that we were alone before joining you. Your smile was strained and I felt a twitch of panic as you took both of my hands into yours. “It’s not just a game anymore, you know.”

I nodded, twining my fingers through yours for a moment before I pulled my hands free. “You have to think about this… Everything that’s happened already, it is in the past… It doesn’t have to happen again, or even be spoken of. You don’t even have to think about it if you don’t want. The future… well that is up to you.” I stood, pacing back and forth in front of the couch as I struggled for the right words.

“You have a wife, a family, and I don’t want to hurt that. I don’t want you to lose that. Me, I have nothing to lose here, and I have nothing to offer you that can make up for any consequences to our actions. The only thing I can give you is this… Myself, my heart…” I hesitated, but decided not to hold back. “My love. You have the most to lose, so the decision to move forward -or to stop- is yours.”

I was on the verge of babbling, or breaking my own resolve not to beg or tempt you into making the choice I hoped for. I found blankets, making up the couch for you to sleep on, and whispered goodnight before you could speak or I could do anything stupid. Still, as I went into my bedroom, I could not resist the unspoken invitation of an open door.

How you slept, I can’t say. Myself; I was restless, plagued by nightmares. Every time I woke, I listened to see if you were still there. I was sure you would leave, and felt a sense of relief whenever I heard your light snores from the other room. Once I woke to silence, I almost thought I could feel my heart breaking.

A body pressed into the mattress, making the bed move as you stretched out beside me. Fingers trailed up my side, feeling the flimsy fabric of the gown I’d worn to bed, slowly pulling the satin away from my skin. Your hand moved into my hair, curling through ringlets, thumb pressing against the back of my neck as you whispered something just behind my ear.

I stayed still, afraid to move, afraid it was a dream. It seemed impossible that you could choose me, in spite of all the risks involved. I started to speak; meaning to ask if you were sure, or make certain you realized you were with me and not at home. The words became a squeak of surprise as the hand in my hair yanked my head backward and teeth nipped none-too-gently at my throat.

I moaned, whispering your name, and arched as your fingers squeezed a nipple. I tried to move, but you held me still. You nibbled at my throat, moving along the jaw line then back down toward the shoulder. Roughly you shoved at my hip, forcing me onto my back, pinning me in place with your body.

It frightened me. It excited me. I found in you what all my previous lovers had lacked, Dominance. They had been gentle and considerate, thinking my requests for rough treatment a joke. You knew, without asking, what I wanted. Maybe it was the banter, I had teased about being submissive but unable to find someone to take advantage of that… I had mentioned wanting to be bruised and broken.

The thing that had drawn me to you, in spite of all the reasons I should not even consider such a thing… It had been a sure and certain feeling that you would be able to give me what I needed. Not only would you oblige me, you would enjoy it… I knew that you understood what I really meant when I told people that I wanted a man who could easily break me, but who wouldn’t need to.

The hand in my hair moved to join the other, pulling at the neck of my gown until it began to split. The satin shredded easily, and I felt such a rush of excitement I thought I might faint. Wanting you was a physical, burning pain that could only be eased by one thing.

“Please.”

You chuckled and leaned close, letting your full weight rest between my thighs as you leaned on one elbow and teased a fingertip across my lips. “Please… What?”

I wanted to cry, or scream, or beg… Instead I whimpered, arching up against you. “Please… don’t tease me…” I spread my thighs apart, groaning as it allowed you to settle more firmly against my naked and aching junction.

You shifted, pulling away slightly. I thought you were leaving until I realized that you were undressing. Within a moment you were positioned at my entrance, pressing gently but not thrusting forward. Your hands gripped at my waist as you leaned forward to whisper in my ear.

“I’m not using protection.” Before I could say I didn’t care, you continued. “If you get pregnant, I’ll be the ‘Godfather’ understand?”

I could feel my juices running hot, dripping onto the bed. I tried to push upward, but the hands at my waist kept me pinned down. I realized that you were playing the same game I had done. In order for this to continue, I had to give consent. It had to be equal in all ways.

Godfather… Yes, I understood… It would be something between us, a permanent tie, if that happened. I had not actually wanted children until now, but suddenly I did. It would mean you had to stay in my life, if we had a child, even if nobody knew but us… “Yes.”

You thrust forward, hands moving to my hips and yanking hard. Your mouth pressed down on mine; drowning out the scream I was unable to hold back. It was real, not another fantasy. It was really happening, and it was better than I had imagined.

There was something both intense and violent in our joining. A need that had been denied for too long, a passion that would no longer be ignored. You whispered a warning about leaving marks before biting hard into my shoulder again. You grunted and I cried out with each thrust, breathing was a rhythm determined by the movement of our bodies.

Pillows fell off of the bed, the headboard slammed against the wall, sheets came loose from the mattress. Our bodies were hot and slick from exertion and still we continued. Twice you had to stop and pull my hands away from your shoulders, where my nails kept wanting to dig in. After the third time you used the tatters of my night gown to bind my wrists together, above my head.

Things were said, promises and threats, love and hate. It was a height of passion that bordered on dementia. My head was thrown back, your face pressed into the crook of your shoulder. The darkness of the room gradually lightened as the sun rose. Your head rose, our lips met, tongues explored. Your eyes were emerald, with gold glints. You wore a feral expression, your grin dangerous as you broke the kiss.

I panted for breath, fighting the rhythm. I needed air, I needed water. I was dying, I wanted to die. This moment, here with you, was all that I needed from life. I struggled to free my wrists and you reached out, holding them tight in one hand as you growled.

Intense, passion, feral, primal… It was too much. My head filled with the sound of static as I screamed out, my entire body shuddered with orgasm as you joined me with one final thrust.

Afterward you fell onto me and we lay together, struggling for breath. I could feel you growing soft, still inside me, and as much as I was exhausted I wanted to feel you grow hard again. I murmured something and you answered, neither of us using actual words. The room was bright and we knew there wasn’t time. With a nearly physical feeling of loss, we separated.

“God” I muttered unthinking, then laughed as you said you were glad it was good for me too. I set the alarm so that we could get up in a couple of hours and curled up against you. My mind spun and reeled dizzily, and I tried to still it. A single thought kept surfacing and I fought to ignore it.

I knew that we had gone too far, and there would be no returning. It could no longer be ignored, and the consequences would come eventually. The only thing to do was enjoy the time until then. Yes, we were in trouble, but it didn’t matter yet.

You muttered something sleepily and I kissed you. “I love you.” I whispered. It seemed stupid not to say it, when I had been thinking it for months now. You responded the same, that you loved me too.

Yes, we were in trouble.